Drunken Harry
by gorgeousbowneyesslash
Summary: “Oh, sweetheart put the bottle down...” "Please, please, please! I love you, please don't leave me I love you, don't leave me!" Crying in the corner. That’s where I found him, hugging an almost-empty bottle of muggle Vodka.


AN: This story uses lyrics from Kelly Clarkson's _I Do Not Hook Up. _I don't own the lyrics, and I don't make any money from this story. JKR owns the characters.

This is one of those stories you write when something similar is going on in your life. It was pumped out in two sittings, and is not beta-ed. There are a LOT of tense issues, I'm aware of that. However, considering it wasn't meant to be much of anything, I don't think I'm going to get it fixed. I might if I decide to continue. I suppose that all depends on how my own situation turns out. This is the Draco/Harry version of my life at the moment, even though it's very different.

Enjoy, and please review!

* * *

**Drunken Harry**

**_by gorgeousbowneyes_**

* * *

"_Oh, sweetheart put the bottle down..."_

* * *

Crying in the corner.

That's where I found him, hugging an almost-empty bottle of muggle Vodka. The party was out of control, and no one was sober enough to know what the hell they were doing. I turned at the sound of a heavy clatter and watched as a drunken girl fell down a set of stairs and took another down with her. There was a pool in the yard, I could hear splashes as idiots jumped in at two in the morning. It felt more than god-forsaken. There was no innocence, no basic merrymaking, left to this party.

No one had really noticed him sitting in the corner, if anything I suspected he had had less to drink than everyone else. By the looks of that bottle of Vodka, I'd say it was a pretty out of control party.

Arriving sober to a drunken party at 2am really opens your eyes.

I walked over to him, crouched down next to him and placed my hand on his knee. He looked up. Recognition was a while in coming, but when he realised who I was through his drunken blurriness, instantaneous happiness spread over his face. He threw himself into my arms.

He's only nineteen. To many of us teenagers, nineteen is like being sixty. You may as well retire because your fun days are over. Nineteen is ancient. But in the real world a nineteen year old still has a lot to learn, and many mistakes still to make. This nineteen year old in particular has been through hell. No wonder he binges.

I'm not sure who most of the people around us are, I do recognise a face or two around however. I can understand why he would want to come initially. It should have been fun. It should have been innocent. For some reason it doesn't feel very innocent.

I tighten my arms around him and his elation to see me slowly turns into sobs. I can smell the alcohol all over him, but I know I need to be his rock right now.

"Draco," he whispered into my neck, nuzzling further. "Please don't leave me."

It comes from nowhere. I almost don't comprehend what he's saying, but slowly I come to the realisation that he thinks he's done something terribly wrong. He's sobbing into my neck now and repeating the same words over and over again. _Don't leave me, I love you, Don't leave me please please I love you. _

He's a pathetic little sobbing mass in my lap and arms and for the life of me I don't know what's upset him.

I try to drag away the bottle of Vodka, thinking at least he's forgotten it. As soon as I touch the bottle however he snatches it away, managing to take another swig. He needs to stop drinking, and I'm pretty sure he knows this too, but just doesn't care anymore.

He pulls away from me and into the corner once again, bringing his knees to his chest to hug as he cries. I'm not going to let him pull away from me however, so I move ever closer and wrap my arms around him.

"Get off me! You don't understand, you could never understand! Just let go!" he yells at me.

I never once let go.

I just tighten my grip. "No, Harry. Not a chance."

He struggles against me for a while, but in his drunken haze it's not much of a fight. Finally giving up on fighting, he once more breaks down into tears, gut wrenching sobs that shake his whole body.

"Come on, love, we need to get you out of here. Why don't you give me this and we'll get out of here?" I say, indicating the Vodka. Instead of handing it over, he just hugs it to his chest. I sigh.

"Right, well if you're not going to cooperate I'm going to have to carry you out." Still no response. I sigh and get up, preparing to pick him up. He's totally unresponsive by now, so I proceed to pick him up in my arms.

Drunken wizards generally don't mix well with any kind of magical transportation. You're likely to get throw up all over your carpet, whether you floo, apparate or portkey. So knowing I was picking Harry up from a drunken party, I wisely brought the car. I attempt to carry him out to the car, but don't manage to make it through the door frame.

Weasley.

His red hair is the first thing I notice. Next is the fact that he almost looks worse than Harry. If Harry hadn't have been crying, he would look worse.

"Where you takin' 'im Malfoy??"

"Home."

"We're jus' havin' a little fun. Wanna drink, Maafooy?"

"No, I have to drive."

"Too bad."

"Weasley you're still in the way."

"Oh, righ'. Sorry," he replied, looking sheepish.

He still didn't move out of the way. I sighed and looked around the room behind me. Granger was almost passed out on the couch. I never picked her for a binge drinker, but the war did funny things to everyone.

"Ron, why don't you go help Hermione, she looks like she could use a hand," I said, trying to push Ron somewhere other than blocking the exit.

He looked over to her and suddenly realised he wasn't back with her, and wandered on over.

I took another step, but Harry suddenly realised I was taking him out the door and to a car.

"N-n-no, Draco, put me down, I wanna stay! Geroff me!" I said nothing and continued walking to our car. Red convertable, gorgeous car, very very expensive and showy. It says money and is the only reason we even have one.

And because I tend to have to pick up a drunken Harry quite a lot.

He's starting to really protest now, kicking and screaming, I notice he drops the vodka and it smashes all over the path. I don't stop for it.

* * *

"_I see you through those bloodshot eyes..."_

* * *

He's crying more now, weeping into my chest. He's back to the _I love you_'s. I finally get him in the car and he won't let go of me, not even enough so I can get in the driver seat. I make him look at me. Slowly, slowly the sobs stop as he looks into my eyes. He knows. He looks into my eyes, and he knows that I love him. I'm looking into his bloodshot eyes, wiping a tear away from them, and I know how much he's hurting. Just like he knows, I know that he loves me too. He hurts, he's in pain, and he doesn't know how to help himself, but deep down I know that we'll get there.

We stay that way for a while, just looking at each other. Slowly his flow of tears dries up. I put him into the car more securely and put on his seat belt. He's already falling asleep. I run to the other side of the car and jump in.

The rest of the party is still going strong, I can still hear the music and drunken noises from the place. I know I should care about how out of control it is, and if it was me that was drunk and Harry picking me up, he'd want to make sure everyone else got home safe. But that's Harry. I only care about getting Harry home safe. He's my priority. It's sweet that Harry cares so much about everyone else, and I know in the morning he's going to be at me about the others, and where they are, how they are, all that. But I just don't care right now.

I turn on the engine and pull out onto the street. I try not to speed, but with this car, and my precious cargo, it's hard not to rush home. It's so easy to get to speeds of a hundred with this engine, and with the roads so empty it's very tempting to do so. But I don't want anything to happen to Harry, so I make sure I go the speed limit, if only just.

He's already asleep in the passenger seat. I'm glad. I remember picking him up a few weeks ago and he would just not sit still in the car. I had to put the top up on the car, otherwise I could just see him throwing himself over the side. He's not always this easy to deal with.

I know he thinks no one else understands him, doesn't know what he's going through. But I do. He can't see it because he's so wrapped up in his own pain. He killed a man. A monster maybe. But still someone's son, he still had a mother and father once. And Harry can't stop beating himself up over it. Never mind that this particular man killed hundreds, maybe thousands, of people. It doesn't matter to Harry. He's too good for that.

I don't know how I ever deserve him some days.

Sometimes I think maybe, in a way, he needs me. I know that without him I would be more than a mess. But without me, who would be there to save him from these drunken disasters? I hope that it's not the only reason he loves me. But I really can't see why he does some days. All I know is that he does.

* * *

"_A quick fix won't ever get you well"_

* * *

I finally have him home. I get him to bed and he's still out cold. At least he's home to sleep it off in his own bed, rather than curled up on a stone floor somewhere or something.

I sigh and scrub at my face with my hands. I don't know what to do with him at the moment. All I know is that he's out of control. I can't help him, I've tried. This drinking is becoming more and more of a regular occurrence and I know he's trying to escape what he's done.

It's his quick fix.

Only it doesn't fix anything. He gets so drunk he doesn't know what he's doing, I look after him, he sleeps off the hangover all day the next day and then goes on like nothing's happened. Then he does it all again the next weekend. It's not helping him, and I don't know what to do anymore.

All I can do is be there for him until he actually wants to help himself.

I get into bed next to him and turn out the light.

I thought he was out for the rest of the night, but as soon as he felt the movement of the bed it must have woken him slightly. He moves closer to me and curls his body around mine, and I hug him to me.

"Draco..."

"Hmm?"

"Draco I'm so sorry. I'm sorry please don't leave me I'm sorry."

He's babbling again about me leaving him. I don't know where it's coming from, it's not something he's ever done before while drunk.

He starts to cry into my chest, clutching at me like I'm going to disappear.

"Babe, shhhh, what's the matter? Why would I leave you?"

"Because I'm a screw up! I screwed everything up. I'm no good. Why would you even want me?"

I almost laugh. It's almost the same kinds of things I think about him. Why would he want me? Apparently he thinks the same things. I think the world of him, think he's amazing and I'm so undeserving of someone like him, someone on the side of good, someone who cares for every living being so much so that when he killed the man he was always destined to, the monster who killed his parents, he goes into a depressed stupor over it.

"Shhhh, stop crying. This is pointless. Don't think you're no good or undeserving or anything, because really it should be me who is saying this. I can't believe how lucky I am to have someone like you!"

For some reason this makes him cry harder. He finally stops enough to look up at me and there is a look in his eyes that makes me feel uneasy.

"I ... Draco. Tonight ... I ...."

I have no good feelings about what he's trying to say. The look in his eyes doesn't give me any confidence.

"Oh my God you're going to leave me when I say this but I have to..."

Why am I so worried?

"I slept with someone else."

My whole world falls out from underneath me. I push him away. Not because I want to, but because I have to. I can't think.

I can't breathe.

"Draco, please, I love you, it was a mistake."

My mind is going fuzzy. I can't really hear properly and Harry's pleadings are just a background noise that isn't really taking hold.

"Please, please, I love you, I need you, please, please, please..."

I want to throw up. I don't know anything. I don't know what to say or think. I know I love him. I know he's in a bad place. I know he really does love me...

"Please, please, please, please..."

But I just can't stand the thought that he let someone else touch him. He's got his arms around my waist right now, he's trying to hold onto me, beg me to love him, to stay.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you..."

I push his arms off and get up and go to the bathroom. I lock myself in. I hear him bash into the door and fall down it, sobbing. He's hitting it and trying to get in and begging still.

I'm in a haze. I know what he's doing somewhere in the background of my mind. I know what I'm doing even less. I may as well be drunk because I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm taking all my clothes off and turning on the shower. I don't know why. I just want one all of a sudden. I turn the water up really hot, and get in.

The sound of the water almost blocks Harry out, and all of a sudden I realise that I never want to stop hearing his voice. I start to cry in the shower, I just don't know what to do.

I always said if anyone ever cheated on me they would get no chances. But in this situation, I just don't think I can leave him.

I love him.

I can't stop loving him.

I hate him right now.

But I love him.

I turn off the water, and get out feeling much clearer. I dry off but don't put any clothes back on.

I've made up my mind.

I open the bathroom door and get an arm full of Harry who's been throwing himself at the door. I hold onto him and steady him. He looks up at me, and I look into his eyes.

* * *

"_Keep your hand in my hand, your heart on your sleeve  
Oh, no, I do not hook up, up, I fall deep"_

* * *

_  
_

I walk him backwards to the bed and make him sit down on it. I look into his eyes. I know he's still really intoxicated but I need the details.

"Who?"

"I don't really know..."

I look away. This sort of confirms it. He got so drunk he didn't know what he was doing. He doesn't know who the person is. He's hurting so much he just needs to feel something. He knows he loves me and I wonder whether this was his own little test to see how much I did mean to him. He needed to confirm that this feeling for me he felt was really love.

I think he got his answer. But what if it's too late, too much of a mistake for me to stay?

"Why?" I ask, thinking I already know, but I need to hear him say it.

"I... I love you. Only you. It meant nothing, and I don't even know why I did it. I couldn't stop myself and I just don't know. I love you."

I growl. It's almost the right answer. I know he needs help with his issues.

I also know that I can't be the one to give it to him, that he won't let me help him. I don't know what to do with him anymore.

But oh, God, how I love him.

I look up and see his tears and his eyes. I know that this is only a result of these issues he's having.

"Maybe we should take a break, Harry."

"What? No, please! Don't leave!"

"Harry, stop, for one second. I love you. I will never stop loving you! But I don't know if I can deal with you right now. I've tried helping you, but you won't take it. You won't get help. You're drunken escapades are leading you into more and more situations which you regret. If I can't get you to help yourself, and you continue this way, then I can't be with you. I can't let myself get hurt like this if you're not going to get help."

"Draco ... I'll stop. I'll get help. It won't ever happen again. I love you. Please. Please, please, please, please."

"I've heard this before, Harry. I think it would be best if we spent some time apart."

"No!" He lunged himself at me, into my arms. He lands on top of me on the floor, and starts to try and kiss me. He's clutching desperately at me, while trying to force me to kiss him. It's so hard to not give in to him. I came so close to giving in, and let him kiss me for a few moments, before even starting to kiss back. My brain finally kicked in and I rolled us over, and then backed off.

I went to the other side of the room and went to the cupboard. I pull out some clothes and start getting dressed. Harry is over here by then and is pulling all the clothes I get out away from me. He's sobbing and crying and screaming and trying his best to stop me from getting dressed so I can't leave. My heart is breaking seeing him like this. I don't really want to leave him.

"Stop, stop, Harry, stop it." I grab both his hands and look at him. "Harry please. What if it was me? What would you do if I slept with someone else? If you can honestly tell me you would stay, then I'll stay."

He stops sobbing enough to think. I can see him thinking. Then he looks up into my eyes and I can see that he knows. He knows if it was me he would be doing the same thing. And then he starts to cry all over again and collapses to the floor, his head in his hands, his chest heaving.

I finish dressing and go to the door. I look back at him with my hand on the door knob. He's crying, still in the same position.

It hurts so much to see him that way. It hurts so much to be walking out the door. It hurts knowing why I have to do this. It all hurts in general.

I take a deep breath and open the door. I walk out of our bedroom and into the hall. I shut the bedroom door.

I concentrate, and apparate to the Malfoy Mansion.

It's deathly quiet. There is no Harry here.

* * *

"_Oh, sweetheart, put the bottle down  
'Cause you don't wanna miss out"_

* * *

_  
_


End file.
